Family visits
by Angel Jade1
Summary: Wesley’s father comes to visit, dragging up the past. Wesley/Angel


Title: Family visits  
Author: Angel Jade  
Rating: R  
Content: Slash, language, mentioned family abuse and a little racism.  
Spoilers: Uh...none really. Season two Ats very vaguely.  
Pairings: Angel/Wesley  
Description: Wesley's father comes to visit, dragging up the past. Wesley POV.  
Setting: Some time in season two, post-Epiphany  
Feedback: angel-jade@buffyrocks.co.uk  
Distribution: Ask first please.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of this innocent fic, that privilege belongs to Mr.Whedon and co, who do make money from them, unlike me. *g*  
Author's notes: A bit of racism in this fic...that is handled in a very non-racist way...because I am personally very sensitive about it, it simply fitted the character.  
  
  
  
"Hello Father."  
  
I think the atmosphere just thickened a tad too much. I'm thankful I don't have to breathe...though it doesn't sound like anyone is at this point.  
  
A man with a sour face walks in, small suitcase in hand, barely looking at the man who calls him father.  
  
"Wesley...why don't you introduce us to..." I start.  
  
"Is someone going to take my bag?" The man asks grouchily.  
  
We all look at each other awkwardly before Wesley walks timidly over to take it.  
  
"I meant one of your so-called staff. You are still in charge here, aren't you, boy?"  
  
Wesley falters...I think we all do. "Uh, yes...yes, I am Father. Uh...Gunn, would you mind?"  
  
Gunn, who would usually have raised a finger in reply, takes the bag from Wesley's father and looks glad to be out of the room.  
  
"I'm sorry I have no room at my apartment." Wesley says, quietly. "I wouldn't have minded giving up my bed..."  
  
"I think not." His father interrupts. "You never could make a bed properly."  
  
Wesley simply drops his gaze and I have to wonder...what is going on here? I'm not the only one who reads the subtext. Cordelia watches with a sadness in her eyes. She pities Wesley.  
  
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" His father asks, angrily. "I thought I taught you better than that."  
  
"Sorry, Father...I...this is Angel and Cordelia. The other man who works here...is Gunn." Wesley stutters slightly.  
  
"You've been living over here too long." The old man complains, walking in, passing Wesley without a glance. "Angel...what kind of name is that for a man?"  
  
"Actually, Sir." I begin politely, knowing all the tricks. "Angel is a nickname. My real name is Liam."  
  
"Ah...Irish...your family hails from there I presume?" He asks me.  
  
"Yes, Sir."  
  
"You're well spoken for a Mick." He says, looking me up and down. "Perhaps some of you do have breeding."  
  
I smile. Simply because I've heard it all and more and there is no way I'll hurt Wesley by loosing my temper.  
  
Gunn trudges downstairs, wishing he didn't have to but obviously too interested to stay away.  
  
Wesley's father looks at Cordelia. I wish she'd worn something a little less...Cordelia, today.  
  
"Your secretary?" He asks Wesley. "Not your girlfriend I presume...too pretty for you."  
  
Cordelia's just as offended as me. She barely keeps her mouth shut and that I'm thankful for. She doesn't like to hear a friend put down...unless it's her doing it.  
  
"And 'Gun'?" He asks, saying the name disdainfully. "Sounds like one of those nicknames the young black hooligans give each other on the street these days."  
  
I see the rage boil in Gunn's eyes and pray he has the sense to keep it in. I see Wesley burning red with embarrassment and wonder if he'll do anything to stop his father.  
  
"Mr. Wyndham Pryce." I say, walking over before Gunn can do something stupid. Justified...but stupid. How would you like a drink?"  
  
I see Wesley shaking his head dramatically and realise alcohol is not the best way to go.  
  
"You Irish are all the same." He mutters.  
  
Again I smile. "I was referring to a hot beverage...coffee, tea?"  
  
He turns to Cordelia and shouts off his order. "Tea, no milk, no sugar."  
  
Cordelia takes a cue from me and smiles with fake sweetness, before making him a cup of tea. Wesley rushes over to help...obviously terrified she won't get it right.  
  
"Look at him, helping the woman out. He was always like that...little mama's boy." He mutters at me.  
  
I try to think of something that I can say, anything that'll make him proud of Wesley...if such an emotion exists in the man.  
  
"Wesley's an amazing boss. He's...a great asset to the company."  
  
"I don't envy you. Your company won't last long under his rule."  
  
I'm speechless. I feel as if I'm seventeen again, standing in front of my own father...hearing him say similar words to me. I feel the urge to say what I've wanted to say to my father for a very long time...but I know in my heart my chance has gone. Wesley's however...hasn't.  
  
"Angel...perhaps it would be better if you get an early night. Early start tomorrow...you know how I like to make sure things are working correctly." Wesley says.  
  
I nod, playing along. "Of course, boss."  
  
He smiles thankfully.  
  
"Yeah, I'm off too. Goodnight...boss." I can see that was hard for Gunn, but the smile on Wesley's face makes it easier for him.  
  
"Oooh, my cue to leave. Nice meeting you Mr. Wyndham Pryce." Cordelia says, grabbing her coat and slipping out.  
  
"Good night Wes, Sir." I say, nodding at them both.  
  
I hate to leave them alone, terrified for Wesley's sake. I know what it's like to have to endure alone time with a father who will never quite see anything but flaws. But I also know I'd have done the same thing in Wesley's place. Better to be insulted alone than in front of an audience.  
  
*****  
  
I'm downstairs early because I just know Wesley's father will be. I don't want him alone downstairs...far too many things he could see that we don't want him too. He knows about Wesley's watcher career. But I'm still unsure how much he knows about everything else. Especially me.  
  
As I walk downstairs, I see Wesley's there also, pretending to look busy as his father reads the morning paper. He sees me and looks away quickly.  
  
Too late. I notice the slight bruise on his cheek and this time I know I won't hold my temper in.  
  
"Angel! Good morning." He says quickly, walking over to me. "Had a slight problem last night..."  
  
"I can see that." I say shortly. "What happened Wes?"  
  
"Being the idiot that I am, I ran into a couple of vampires...I was lucky to escape with my life."  
  
I look at him doubtfully. "Wesley, if he did this too you..."  
  
"No!" His answer is obviously quick and I'm almost positive it's a lie. "No...it happened just after I left."  
  
"Is your father here long?" I ask.  
  
"No, he returns home tomorrow. He only came to visit a dying friend, here in LA. That's where he'll be spending most of the day." Wesley said, looking a little happy at the prospect.  
  
"Okay. Is there anything you need me to do?" I ask.  
  
"As usual, we're just waiting on the powers...I'm afraid there's nothing much to do." Wesley said.  
  
"Anything you want me to do?" I ask him, smiling.  
  
"Uh...I suppose you could...look busy...perhaps even...make me look..."  
  
"Indispensable?" I finish.  
  
He smiles and nods, knowing I understand and grateful for my help.  
  
"Of course, Wes, anything you need."  
  
*****  
  
Wesley's father has been gone for two hours and Wesley has finally stopped rushing round, looking busy. I come back down after eating and find he's not in his office. I walk outside, into the courtyard, and see him looking thoughtfully into nothing.  
  
I sit beside him, an equally lost look in my eyes.  
  
"You alright?" He asks me, snapping out of his dream.  
  
I nod softly.  
  
"Angel...?" He looks worried now. Exactly where I want to take this.  
  
"I was just thinking...thinking how I never got to say something to my father before...I killed him." I tell him.  
  
He looks away. "You never got to say goodbye." He says, as if he knows. "With your soul I mean."  
  
"No...I never got to tell him what an asshole he was." Wesley looks a little shocked but remains silent. "I never got to tell him that the only reason I became a failure was because he had labelled me one since birth and nothing I ever did for him was enough. I wish I could tell him that I no longer need his approval. That working for my own on a daily basis is enough..."  
  
Wesley looks at me without speaking, probably unsure of what to say.  
  
"But I guess it's too late for me." I say, standing up and turning away. "I lost my chance...don't lose yours."  
  
*****  
  
The next morning instead of expecting to see Wesley seeing off his father, I see Wesley sitting in the middle of the room, on the sofa, staring once again into nothing.  
  
"Wes? What happened to...?"  
  
"I told him."  
  
"What?" And then I remember. "Oh..."  
  
"I tried...I tried because you were right. About everything. But I'm not good at speeches. Around him...I can barely make sentences."  
  
I walk over and sit beside him. "What happened?"  
  
"I said the things that you said...only...with more words, mixed up grammar and far too many letters before each word. I sounded like an idiot." He says, looking sadly away.  
  
"How did he take it?" I ask.  
  
"The same way he always took bad behaviour..."  
  
I want him to go on...to tell me what we've all wondered since meeting him. But I can't push. I see the pain in Wesley's eyes and would rather never know than to make it worse.  
  
But it seems Wesley needs to get this out.  
  
"He told me I was talking nonsense. That living here had made me soft. He said...he said that if I were back home...he'd have reminded...me of how to respect my elders." Wesley says in broken up sentences.  
  
"What did he do, Wes? Did he hit you again?" I ask.  
  
"That's not important." Wesley says, very softly. "He's gone now...and I don't' suppose I'll be hearing from him again...not unless I go home and...apologise."  
  
"Be apologise, you don't mean saying sorry, do you?" I ask.  
  
He doesn't reply.  
  
"It's over now, Wes. He's gone. The only thing you need to worry about it forgetting him." I say, placing a hand on his arm.  
  
He looks at me, as if he's about to cry...but years of discipline have taught him that men don't cry.  
  
I remember it all too well.  
  
"Do you know, the first time I ever did something right...was when I came to work for you." Wesley says. "Before that...nothing I did was right."  
  
"That's not true." I say, trying to think of something...anything to say to argue with him.  
  
"Name one thing I did right." He challenges. "Faith...my whole life as a watcher...my rogue demon hunter career...it was all a joke."  
  
"No..."  
  
"How many watchers do you know whose slayer ended up in jail?" He asks me.  
  
"Faith was on a destructive path long before you got to her. She was never meant to be like Buffy." I tell him.  
  
"It doesn't matter anyway...I got fired...failed again. I don't suppose my father even thinks I'm doing the right thing now..."  
  
"I think you are. All that matters is that you know you are. No one else matters." I explain.  
  
"Yes they do." He argues. "You do. Your opinion matters to me."  
  
"It shouldn't."  
  
"No...it's probably shouldn't. But it does. I have to have someone's respect, Angel..." He says.  
  
"You have mine." I tell him, honestly. "You took a bullet for a friend. You stood up to me many a time...even as Angelus. You work with Cordelia Chase! You're a strong man, Wesley. Don't let anyone convince you you're not."  
  
He laughs quietly. "All those times...that he locked me in the cupboard under the stairs...and I had time to think...I used to imagine a man coming to find me. It never mattered who he was...but he always looked the same..."  
  
Now it's my turn at silence. Wesley looks at me...intensely. Before blushing and looking back down to his lap.  
  
"I wish I could have." I tell him.  
  
"It doesn't matter anymore." He says. "I've found a great job and great friends. I can't complain."  
  
"We'll always look out for you, Wesley. We're always going to be here. Especially me. I lost you once...I won't make the same mistake again."  
  
"I'm not worth that." He says, blushing.  
  
"Trust me, Wesley. You're worth that and a great deal more." I say, stubbornly.  
  
Wesley looks back at me, his eyes threatening to let the tears fall, but instead, his leans forward and kisses me, just softly on the lips.  
  
I relax, letting myself kiss back, but before I can do so, he pulls away, jumping off the chair, a terrified look on his face. "I'm so sorry...I didn't mean...I'm ruining everything again."  
  
"No, Wesley..."  
  
"It won't happen again, I'm so sorry..."  
  
I grab both his arms and pull him to me, kissing him properly, pleased as he responds and kisses back.  
  
We both relax and his hands move up to my hips, holding me as I hold him.  
  
I break away as I realise he needs to breathe and we simply looks at each other awkwardly.  
  
"I'm sorry if..." Wesley begins.  
  
"Don't apologise, please. I wanted to." I tell him.  
  
"How can we...I mean, is that it? No more...just that kiss?" He's not sure how to ask to I help him out.  
  
"I like you Wes, a lot..."  
  
"But not like that, I understand."  
  
"Actually...I do. I'm just saying...that this is probably your first time and I don't want to rush you. I'll take things as slow as you need."  
  
Wesley nods. "And if I want to...now?"  
  
I hesitate before smiling. "Then that can be arranged."  
  
*****  
Wesley POV  
*****  
  
I don't sleep at all, despite being tired...three nights of insomnia can do that to a man, but it isn't that this time.  
  
Angel lies beside me, faking sleep just as well as me. But he stays awake because he's afraid for me. Afraid I might need him or that I'll try and sneak out...I don't know. I'm awake because I can't get the sick feeling out my stomach.  
  
I don't deserve this from him. And deep down I know it's pity but I don't want to have to let him go. This is the first night since Virginia left me that I've been close to anyone and not just anyone...him.  
  
A man who understands, cares and...pities.  
  
I can't let my past go just as he never will. But if I can take this day...and relive it in my mind over and over...I know that a part of me won't have to let it go. Because I have this...and this is something I did right...and did for myself.  
  
And as Angel so rightly said, all that matters is that I know I'm doing what's right. And this...this is right.  
  
  
The End 


End file.
